RAGNAROK IS COMING

— Chapter Two —

Forgotten promises

"Hiccup. Don't you dare. You swore to me. You made a promise."

Hiccup stood at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the village of Berk from a distance. The wind and chill of the north air nipped at his nose and made him shiver slightly. The village that slept below him had been cast in the afterglow of the sunset, not yet dark but a fading orange hue. The people of the village lay quiet. There were only a few Vikings that were still awake, some wanting to celebrate the day to come and the day past. Some scurrying about the island, checking the night routine defences. Most had decided on having an early night, eager for the historic event that was set to happen the next day.

Hiccup was not eager. He was conflicted. He knew killing the dragon tomorrow was out of the question, he couldn't possibly kill another being, it would feel like a betrayal against Toothless. He was going to leave, leave Berk and find himself a new life with just him and Toothless. Somewhere they could live in peace and perhaps explore the world. It should have been as simple as hopping on Toothless and bolting through the sky, the speed of lightning; never looking back, but something held him to Berk. No, not something, someone. Astrid.

He had taken her on that flight and shown her the wonders of dragons. That they were far from unstoppable beasts that only craved blood and destruction. That they were intelligent, magical creatures with their own personalities. That they were precious souls, as precious as any man or women. He had changed her mind and it gave him hope. Hope that the minds of the Vikings could be changed if only he showed them. But if he was truthful, he didn't want to. He knew it was probably selfish and cruel of him, but he didn't care about the Vikings. He didn't care that they were too small-minded they thought only to destroy and not to understand. They didn't deserve his help or his kindness. If they wanted to plunge themselves into an endless cycle of war and death then so be it, it was their own faults and he would not think twice about the lives that would be lost. Berk was nothing but a bunch of selfish, irrational savages that would pick on the weak and never accept him unless he proved to be as brain dead as they were.

But Astrid had seen, seen and understood. It was cruel to leave her with that knowledge. She would spend her days killing for a cause she knew held no truth. Sure she could try and reason with the Vikings, but she wouldn't, and Hiccup couldn't be disappointed because of it. Even he knew that she could- would- never go against her tribe. She, unlike Hiccup, was a Viking through and through and no matter the circumstances she would follow the orders of her chief, even if it killed her to do so. And he realised if he became the cause of her misery, he could never forgive himself for it.

Astrid stood, just behind him. He didn't have to turn around to know that she stood tall and proud, defiant as ever with her arms crossed and head raised. But that her eyes glinted in the afternoon glow, as she forced herself not to cry. Astrid never cried. Not when her father was killed by an illness and certainly not now. She knew what Hiccup's leaving meant, it meant that she would be all alone, stuck with growing compassion for the reptiles that raided her village. She, being the runner-up in dragon training, would be the one to slay the Monstrous Nightmare. She would be forced to watch the life drain from the innocent creature, knowing everything she knew, and she would be forced to do it again and again and again.

Astrid didn't think she could forgive him if he left. She vaguely remembered holding hands with a younger Hiccup, one that was even more scrawny that the Hiccup that stood in front of her now. She remembered how serious his green emerald eyes looked as she shook his hand and they promised to never be apart. She knew they had been almost inseparable as children but that as the years had aged them, they grew apart. She also knew she was the one to blame. That, as they grew up Hiccup had stayed the same, smart, caring boy who wanted only to fit in with everyone else. But now she knew he could never do that, he wasn't a Viking and she knew. No matter how much he would have told them differently, he could never possibly kill a dragon. When she spent her days training against a tree with an axe in hand, Hiccup would be in Gobber's forge, working on something new, always learning and growing his mind. He didn't have the heart of a Viking.

When the others started picking on him, she could- should- have stood up for him, should have rounded the heads of every one of them, but she did nothing. When Snoutlout would pin Hiccup by the neck and hiss how unworthy he was to be the heir of the chief, that there might come a day when Hiccup would 'accidentally' disappear of a cliff. When the twins would pull the most horrible pranks on him, making him eat and do Gods-awful things. When Fishlegs abandoned him, as his only friend and followed suit with the other teens. But what she did was the worst of all of them. She turned away, the day's Hiccup would carry a black eye or broken arm she never said a damn thing; turned a blind eye. She never dared befriend Hiccup again. Sure, not one of the teens would dare physically hurt her, they knew they couldn't, but she was a coward all the same. When they called him useless because one of his inventions led to yet another disaster, she would see how brilliant his mind was. That he had invented and made those... contraptions, all by himself. But she never dared stand up for him or speak out. She was the coward, inside and out.

So, when he had defeated her again and again in dragon training, she became furious. How dare they treat him like shit and then the minute he shows that he is not the total screw up, they are suddenly his best friend? That all can be forgiven? How dare Hiccup obviously pretend to be a screw-up, when he wasn't? But most of all she was frustrated with herself. She knew she shouldn't be angry, so why was she?

She never broke her promise though. When Hiccup was bloody and scarred, she would force herself to look, to watch what was her fault- no matter how much it broke her heart. She knew she should never expect him to forgive her, but she believed that the small promise they had made to each other when they were children kept them tied, meant something through all her betrayal.

Hiccup turned as she spoke. The expression on her face made him want to stay, even if it was to spend his entire life in misery; like she was damned to. He remembered that promise that had remained unspoken in years and saw truth to it. Every time one of the teens would pick on him, she was there, maybe around the corner or against a tree, or in an alley. She was there with him, even though she would never stop them, she did the only thing else she could have. She stayed by his side, and every time he saw her, she had an unreadable face, one he had never been able to pick apart. It wasn't pity or frustration and it wasn't anger or sadness or glee. So, he asked her a question that would solve everything.

"Come with me?"

She let her head fall to the ground and looked down. He spoke with such hope and desperation, almost as if he was begging her as if he couldn't bear the years alone. She knew it was impossible though. Her father had died, and her mother was in a stage of depression unable to do anything, unable to cope with the loss of her husband. It was left to Astrid to raise her two younger brothers, one only just born and another beginning to grow. She couldn't leave them; her mother would never be able to take care of them and she didn't know if they would survive another year.

She spoke quietly, knowing the force of her words. "You know I can't."

Hiccup closed his eyes.

"Then stay. Don't tell my father what I have done. Don't tell them that you were the last to see me. Don't tell anyone. Let them come up with their own conclusions. That I ran away a coward or that the Gods decided to save them from the grief of watching me screw up. And Astrid?"

His question forced Astrid to turn her head towards him, dreading he might show how disappointed with her he was. He looked her in the eye and took a step closer, enough so that if she was to reach out, she could touch him easily. His face held no trace of what she expected, but instead a cool mask of sorrow.

"Don't give up. When you can go on no more, remember what I say. You are the strongest person I know. And if I didn't know better, I would say you weren't a Viking at all." She smiled at that, but it didn't meet her eyes.

"Keep fighting. Every dragon you kill, make it worth it. You do this and someday it will get easier, but don't let it. Remember these creatures and never forget."

She couldn't help herself. Astrid threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, bringing her close and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. Stifling a tear, she held him tighter.

"Promise to never leave me."

"I promise."

...oOo...

Eight years later

Astrid woke with a start. The sounds of screaming tore through her walls and plunged into her ears. She woke abruptly and instinctively threw on her armour. Years of being ready for a raid made her alert and developed a few good habits. Barely awake, she snatched her axe from where it slept in a stand beside her bed and ran as fast as her legs would go. Her heart thumped rapidly as she raced down the stairs and burst through the front door. What met her was chaos.

In the dark, night sky, giant torches had been lit and hundreds of dragons zipped around the island. Some Vikings threw arrows and maces, nets and hammers. Others made away with the roof of a house and... Tuffnut Thorston?

A Hideous Zippleback had the male clamped in its huge paw and threw him from head to head as he thrashed fiercely, screaming. "Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt."

Sighing, Astrid looked around her. During a raid some kind of weapon was always near and ready, she lifted a net from the ground and chucked it in the general direction of the Thorston idiot. It successfully caught him as one of the heads mid-catapulted him, making him fall to the ground with an unhealthy thud and a not-so masculine scream. The other half sped towards her brother, waving and screaming like a lunatic. The Zippleback flew off with a growl.

Astrid took a minute to look around her, something was off. The dragons, instead of taking the farmer's livestock, were snatching the livestock of Berk. Most scrambled out of the clutches of the dragons, too stubborn to just give up, but she saw a few familiar faces fill with dread as they were lifted and carried away.

Horror spread through Astrid as she realised what the dragons were doing. They were taking the Vikings instead. Not a single sheep had been lifted, the dragons seemed to be targeting the Vikings. Astrid sped towards the town centre of Berk, panic filling her every nerve, they had never been raided like this before and she needed to figure out why. Had the dragons finally decided that killing Berk was the best option? Spotting Stoick, she pushed her way through all the Vikings and ran towards him. He stood tall, looking up at the sky full of dragons and his people with panic and alarm. Astrid stood in front of the chief and demanded his attention. She spoke loud and clear.

"Chief, what do we do?"

Always level-headed, as was expected when the chief, Stoick met Astrid's gaze.

"Protect each other." Speaking louder he addressed the rest of Berk's occupants.

"Leave no man or women separated or alone, stay together." He addressed his villagers. Gobber appeared, summoned by the call of his best friend and chief, and with a battle cry, he ran for the dragons. Astrid nodded and turned to face the battle. Snotlout Jorgenson's voice chimed in her ear.

"Wanna pair up? Don't worry I'll protect you from these savage beasts." He flexed his arm as if to support what he said.

Astrid rolled her eyes, "I'm sure I can manage by myself. Wouldn't want your ego to attract a Monstrous Nightmare." She quipped and ran off, leaving Snoutlout to examine his muscles, just before a Gronkle crash-landed on top of him.

She had no intention of hurting any dragons tonight. What she wanted to do was figure out what was going on. She had been getting better at understanding the language of the dragons. In secret, of course, she had been spending more and more days in Hiccup's cove. She mentally slapped herself, it was getting harder not to think of him. She would spend days in that small cove, praying to the Gods that they would give her the strength to keep going, to keep killing. Every raid that had passed she was expected to kill more and more dragons and being the top in her class, she was expected to show skill and determination; to never hesitate. And every raid she hated herself for it. She had contemplated running away, she knew how cowardly it sounded, and she knew it was impossible. The final words of Hiccup were the last thread that held her together.

Sometimes, while she sat in the cove, the odd Terrible Terror would fly in. They had been teaching her how they spoke, she reckoned she wasn't very good at it. It had taken eight years and she could only understand the basics. In her defence, Dragonese consisted of just a lot of grunts, gurgles and growls. She headed towards a small terror that had been lurking in the shadows of a nearby tree, almost as if it was waiting for her, and tried, in what best way she could, to understand what was happening. When she asked the dragon, it said something along the lines of 'different dragons' and 'different master'. At least that was what it sounded like.

Astrid turned back to look at the chaos that was Berk. So many people lay injured on the ground and she cursed herself for not helping, but what the Terror had told her was extremely valuable. What she knew now, if she got her Dragonese right, was that these weren't the same dragons that would normally raid Berk and they had a different alpha.

A shiver spider crawled down her spine. Whatever controlled the dragons before only wanted Berk's food and it would be accidental if a Viking was to be killed. But what controlled them now. It had a thirst for blood, Viking blood. And with the number of wounds Berk had sustained today she wasn't sure they would be able to cope with another raid like this. Bodies lay strewn on the roofs of houses and looking over to her left she saw that Harold, the boy who would help in the bakery with his father, was gruesomely pierced by one of the horns of the Viking statues that erected from the sea.

Forcing the rising bile from her throat, Astrid made her way back to the centre of Berk. The raid was more or less over by now and her late coming meant that she had missed out on the worst of the action. Walking through the crowd of injured Vikings, she saw Ruffnut support her brother as he sat on an overturned fish basket. She was trying her best to bandage his head. Snotlout leaned against the forge wall as Gothi examined a nasty looking burn on his arm. His face, normally full of superiority, was now contorted in pain. Fishlegs stood with Gobber in the Forge bending over hammers and crossbows. She knew they were trying to mend the millions of broken weapons, they couldn't afford to be attacked again and not have anything to defend themselves with. Astrid didn't pay much attention to any of them. At this moment the only thing she wanted was to find her family. Her mother always liked to let out her rage in battle, so Gods knew if she was even still alive and both her brothers were too young to join a raid, so they should be safety nestled at home.

Astrid ran to her house, praying to the Gods they would be okay, that the house hadn't been caught in flames or that a dragon hadn't gotten to them. Thoughts of the worst looped around in her mind until there was no room for anything else. When she reached her door, she could almost cry in relief. It was untouched by fire or destruction and stood the same as it did the day before. Astrid ran to the door and shoved it open, the hinges creaked.

"Mom? Rayther? Sunnil?" she shouted but only her echo came back.

Fearing the worst, Astrid crept inside the front door. It was too dark to see anything and she could barely make out the faint shadows of furniture. Something moved in the far corner of the wall.

"Sunnil? It's me. Astrid. Come out, the raid is over now." She spoke softly.

She knew with how young Sunnil was, he was probably scared out of his mind, especially if he was here alone. She was going to ring Rayther's neck for leaving him, he was supposed to watch over his younger brother. Astrid moved closer to Sunnil.

Odd, she thought. He should have come out by now. Astrid squinted in the darkness, she couldn't see a damn thing. Whatever was there, moved again, shifting around, almost as if... it couldn't be. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was the scared faced of a man as he smiled wickedly and the flat his sword met her head.

...oOo...

"Lord Aklav. How can I be of assistance?"

Avrid walked through the gold-plated door and smiled at the young maid. She knew him as Lord Aklav, an embassy from the Legion of Rebels and here to help undermine the Home Laws. She was a nice woman and tended to have a soft spot for him. Of course, Liogoo would call this 'flirting' but he tried to see past it.

"Breakfast would be wonderful." He winked as she bowed and scurried off, a rose blush creeping on her cheeks.

The foyer in front of him was, in its glory days, a beautiful architectural masterpiece. The floors now scored and cracked, had once been flawless marble stretched across a lengthy room. A dark red carpet, once richly rolled through the middle of the floor and up the staircase, was now tattered with holes. Probably the mice. Pieces of what was once a crystal chandelier swung low and swayed as the early morning breeze blew in from the open door.

At the end of the room was a large arc. Opening up onto a sizable throne room that was used for strategy meetings and battle preparation. Closing the door, Avrid turned and made his way down the East of the castle. It was about time he made himself scarce. He didn't know when the Asgardians were to arrive, but he didn't fancy bumping into them anytime soon.

The corridor he walked down was a lot like the foyer. Cracked marble and old elegance, a place of once rich décor and now rotting stone. Damp walls and strange mildew, that seemed to be alive, sickened every crumbling wall.

Although the East wing was meant to be one of the richer parts of the old castle, it was, in its days of use, for showing off. But now, that didn't stop the growing mould and scurry of rats and mice. Avrid found it wasn't the most pleasant of accommodation, but he had survived worse. He did, however, find a family of cockroaches living in one of the pillows he was given, it wasn't the best way to start a Saturday morning. No guards lined the walls, no Herman didn't like to have 'potential spies lurking at every corner'. He is- was quite the paranoid type, Avrid supposed it was what had kept him surviving for so long. Well until now, Avrid thought with a smile.

His room was the same as the rest of the castle. Any type of fabric was destined to have holes and so the double poster bed was no exception.

Whoever had chosen the colour scheme was, in Avrid's opinion, an idiot who was obviously evil and cruel. It was a grubby dark green colour. Not the nice type, but the shade of out of date bread and rotten fruit. It made Avrid want to throw up every time he was forced to look at it. The same colour was used for all of the fabric and only the furniture gave him some relief, possibly there was none of that colour available. So the bedframe and small wardrobe stood as rotten oak, the never-ending curse of damp did not spare any of the furniture.

Avrid rarely slept in the room anyway, it was more for formal purposes, he preferred the warm company of his reptilian friend, even if it meant his back ached every morning.

He was only here to fetch a few of the letters and papers that he intercepted in the effort to catch King Herman. He needed to burn them out of the Æsir's reach. It wouldn't do any good for them to discover Avrid was here.

After collecting the various strips and scrolls of paper he bunched them on the bed. Avrid tapped his finger on the bedcover, setting it alight. The maid he had sent for his breakfast would assume he got caught in the fire and burned to death. Faking his death, he laughed at the irony of it.

He walked to the window and elbowed the glass, shattering it. He looked down, it wasn't even a jump high, the East of the castle where he had 'stayed' was on one of the lower of the rooms. He asked for it specifically for this exact reason in that it would make for an easier escape. Hopping out the window, he landed onto the decayed grass that made up the Álfheimr forest and trotted off into... somewhere. Surrounding the castle was nothing but tree carcass and it when on for miles, so he really didn't pick any certain direction.

It hadn't been safe for Toothless back in the castle. One of Herman's endless list of crimes included killing dragons for sport, the rarer the better. And for a dragon like Toothless, a Night Fury and the last of his kind, he was the rarest of the rare. In all of the Nine Realms, there was only one Night Fury left. Not that Herman could possibly hope to try and defeat Toothless. He smirked at the thought of it. He had sent Toothless away, where he went, he had no idea, but as long as he was out of sight.

He closed his eyes and tugged on the green thread in his mind yet again. Only this time, the Night Fury came stalking out of the trees, his large black body manoeuvred surprisingly easily through the thick forest. Avrid walked to Toothless, meeting him halfway and put his hand out, much like the day they had first bonded. Closing his eyes, Avrid leant his head on the large forehead of his best friend and sighed as Toothless let out a content gurgle. Both rider and Dragon stood content, the feeling of completeness washing over them. Being separated from Toothless made him frustrated and anxious, it made him feel empty like missing a part of himself.

"We need to leave now. I have no idea when the Æsir will arrive, but I have no intention of finding out; they cannot know we were here. They would... jump to conclusions. And I can't have them making anything any more difficult." Avrid explained to Toothless as they separated, and he swung himself over the back of toothless, snapping his bow shut and shoving it back into his arm pad.

It was a sliding pocket that he had modified into his armour, specifically designed so that he could slide out his bow in the quickest way possible. As the bow would fold into its self it would become a black rod, the arrows would be stored into a foldable compartment at his back that resembled a quiver as if sewed together.

In one leap, Toothless took off into the sky that began to light with the colours of morning. Avrid looked over his shoulder at the old castle the King had been using to hide in for the last three years. The fire he had lit had started to spread, eating its way through the castle and flames bursting from narrow, rectangle windows.

Soon it would fall, and he would have destroyed all evidence of his stay. The Asgardians would arrive at the fading embers of Herman and he would have saved them the hassle of doing it themselves. A good month's job in his opinion.

"Where to now?" Toothless gurgled as he flew across the sea of blackened trees.

Avrid sighed, "I suppose we should visit Liogoo. She will be furious with me for doing this myself. You know how dramatic she can be."

"Maybe she'll finally bump some sense into that nuthouse you humans call ahead, it was not fair of you to have done this if you knew I could not follow."

"I am sorry, but Radox had Herman on their eye for years and no one had caught him. The Asgardians were hot on his trail and if they got to him first, then that would have been another one that got away. Plus, he was the perfect candidate and there are rarely Uten like him anymore." He added.

Toothless let out a defeated sound. "Fine. But you will deal with the consequences when the Radox finds out."

Avrid patted his side, "Don't worry, they won't find out. The Æsir will take credit and no one will know any different."

A sudden familiar pain shot up Avrid's arm, and he grunted in annoyance.

"You were saying?"

"Oh, shut your face. Turns out Liogoo won't get the grace of our presence after all. They're sending us to Midgard." Toothless decided it was best to leave his smart comments to himself.

"Midgard it is."

...oOo...